Somewhere between recovering from last weekend's vodka-induced-fall-induced concussion and putting my anti-aging cream on last night, I had a harsh realization: I'm growing up. and it's fucking terrifying. Not physically, actually, seeing as how I've been the same size since 6th grade (which would be quite convenient if Limited Too had provided classic and timeless clothing styles), but in actual real-world terms: I'm getting old. As I rubbed my anti-wrinkle night cream onto my face (a night-time ritual I encourage any female over the age of 16 to do), I had a minor anxiety attack because I only have 2 years until I can justifiably start lying about my age. This whole mid-twenties situation is starting to freak me the fuck out. After I finished applying eye serum, I took a long look in the mirror. Not only did I determine I am super proud of myself and my preventative measures in the fight against signs of visible aging, but I need to make a move, and fast, as to what I'm going to do with the rest of my life.
This may sound like a daunting concept, but I would also like to point out this is coming from the girl who had her first mid-life crisis at the tender age of 13. I'm getting super irritated by the fact that I'm no longer allowed to change my major every other week, and I should probably start thinking about annoying adult words such as "stability" and "career" and "moderate drinking." My plans up to this point had been: marry a royal (and I haven't even met Harry yet), win the lottery, or become involved in an elaborate blackmail scheme that I profit millions of dollars from. Since neither of these highly realistic options have panned out, and clearly I've slept with all the wrong people (otherwise I'd be ultra famous by now, and have a high-end vodka named after me), I've compiled a list of possible career options for me:
1. Wedding Planner Extraordinaire
I'm not referring to your average wedding, with the guest list and the cake and the flowers and the lame ass toasts. I'm referring to a new target audience: red necks, white trash, and the lower middle class. I plan on getting ordained to be a justice of the peace, and I plan on officiating the ceremony as well as planning it. What's my big selling point? FANTASTIC THEMES, that's what it is. So, you want a pirate wedding? I will provide a swash-buckling event! Everything will be pirate, including your ceremony itself, which I will perform in my best pirate-speak. I will even pay some homeless people to pillage (not rape, this is a wedding) your reception site! I've got millions of ideas for hilariously tacky weddings, and I figure if I can offer everything for about $1000, I would be able to build up a pretty big following of idiots who don't know any better. The best part, of course, will be the fact that I'm making a mockery of the couple's nuptials without them realizing it. Ironically ruining the most important day of some people's lives should be quite profitable. And enjoyable.
2. Photographer
I realize that I have zero background in photography, but I have a natural gift. It's called the ability to download Instagram. Isn't that what everyone else is doing these days?
3. Life Coach
In case you haven't realized it, I'm fucking brilliant. I hate everything unreasonable, and I have a wonderful grasp on reality (aside from my enormous sense of entitlement, which I don't feel is irrational at all; I'm entitled to believe I should have everything I want). I feel as though the world would be a better place if people would let me guide their decisions. There would be fewer toxic relationships, fewer children with dumb, trendy, misspelled names, and Southern accents may be rendered obsolete. I'm a little unsure of why people haven't been paying me to coach their every move already, but if you're interested, I'm available.
4. Stand Up Comedy
Actually, this is going to happen. I'm just so lazy.
5. Funeral Planner
If I can plan an excellent themed wedding, I'm positive I could plan one hell of a themed funeral. Oh, themed funerals are disrespectful? I disagree. I think it's disrespectful to the dead by crying. I hate when people cry around me, mostly because I have the emotional availability of a mailbox. I also think the whole "wear black, cry, go back to someone's house and eat casseroles" thing is so over-played. I hate to break it to you, but everyone dies. I see a funeral as a challenge. Essentially, you only get one, and it's the only party with guaranteed attendance you'll ever have. Why not throw a great one? I feel as though I could create an entirely new market with themed funeral planning. Not only would I be able to console the terminally ill/elderly/morbidly obese with the idea that their loved ones will be having a blast in their honor, but I'll distract them from impending doom. Let's face it, funerals are a drag. I intend to change that.
6. Vodka Promoter
I'm actually still waiting for Three Olives to get back to me. I should probably up it to 25 e-mails a week instead of 20, I'm sure the others aren't getting through to the right people.
7. Best selling Author
I should probably just write a book.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Thursday, April 12, 2012
I Have Enough Friends, and I Hate Most of them 99% of the Time Already
As if I can't add enough items to the ever-growing list of things that make me want to gauge my eyes out with a staple, I had a brief moment in time where I thought I hated Facebook. I grew angry reading through my news feed (which changes every four seconds, by the way. Annoying). I became irate every time someone tagged me in a picture. A wall post? Go fuck yourself.
It wasn't until I took a long hard look in the social-networking mirror that I realized it wasn't Facebook that I hated; it was the people on my friends list.
That being said, I've resolved to start holding my Facebook friends at a higher standard than I hold the idiots I interact with on a regular basis to. No, I'm not accepting your friend request because I met you once. No, I'm not wishing you a happy birthday because we had a poli-sci discussion together. And, as any girl with high standards would do, I've compiled a grand list to help me clean house.
PEOPLE I CAN'T WAIT TO DELETE FROM MY FACEBOOK:
1. Religious Zealots
With the most recent religious holiday being Easter, I was afforded a wonderful chance to see which of my idiot friends decided to post the generic statuses, including but not limited to: "He is RISEN!" "PRAISE BE!" "HAVE A BLESSED EASTER EVERYONE!" I would normally walk away from these people if I encountered them in real life, and I have no intention of abandoning my beliefs in cyber space. Nothing is ruder than people imposing their bigoted thoughts on others. I'm not against religion, per se, but I am against people throwing it in everyone else's face. Sunday mornings are also a fantastic time to clean house. The next time I have someone filling my news feed with the details of the "wonderful sermon today" I will be responding with a "delete."
2. People Who Post About Their Workouts
If there's one thing worse than people who impose their religion on others, it's people who brag about their workouts. I get it, you were chubby in high school and had a hard time finding actual penetration, and now that you've got a $10.00 a month gym membership, you're basically a personal trainer. Nobody fucking cares that you woke up at 6:00 this morning to have a protein shake and run 12 miles and now you're feeling great. First of all, the only times I've ever seen 6:00 in the morning have been the result of a serious bender. Second of all, I would be feeling suicidal after a 12 mile run, not great, it's fucking freezing out and it's still only 7:00 am. Also, I'm sure it must be lonely at the top, because now that you've discovered this whole new world of super fitness, the only pictures you can post are of you, alone, in front of a mirror trying to flex, but actually just looking constipated. I don't want to see the picture of your new cross trainers. I could give a fuck less that you are "going to class, then CROSSFIT! It's a way of life, gotta do it." Shut the fuck up. I work out too. I mainly have been focusing on the upper body lately - swiping a credit card and bending my elbow to re-hydrate myself with wine (it's just grape juice that grew up to be awesome). Either way, I have zero problem keeping it to myself, and everyone else should take note (as usual. I'm infallible).
3. Anyone who says "YOLO"
It's no secret, I've hit my mid-twenties with grace. I am no longer a young buck, and am becoming the older, more mature, Jackie O of my generation with ease. I had a rude awakening when I was home in CT for Christmas about just how old I am; you know you're getting old when you no longer have contact with any hometown drug dealers. I digress. I felt completely out of the loop on this entire "YOLO" phase. It took me a few days, and a few painful conversations with an idiot I worked with, to learn that YOLO is an acronym for "You Only Live Once." In true degenerate fashion, people have taken advantage of this phrase to justify their idiotic actions. Example: "getting wasted tonight instead of studying. YOLO" "running from the police. YOLO." I'm going to ignore the fact that "You Only Live Once" is a four word, five syllable phrase that has never needed an acronym. Either way, each time someone decides to update their status including the phrase "YOLO" I will be updating my friends list, sans them.
4. "Self Portrait" People
Try as I might, I can't ignore the fact that we are the generation of celebrated mediocrity. Oh, you watch the show Cake Boss on TLC? You'll probably open your own bakery too, since you're so good with box-made cupcakes. You own a digital camera? You're a photographer, and I can totally tell by the album you posted on Facebook of off-center pictures of trees you put in sepia! I cringe every time I see anything like this, but I've gotten used to it. What I can't get used to are the Myspace-style mirror pictures. I swear to fucking God, the next time a mirror picture pops up on my news feed, DELETE. Anyone can make themselves look attractive while making a stupid face into a mirror and holding your i-Phone in a downward direction. Who do you think you are, Snooki? Get over yourself. If your self-esteem is so low that you need to take pictures of yourself in hopes that someone will comment how pretty you are, I can't handle you as my friend to begin with. Hellen Keller could see that if self-assurance is what you seek, you're probably better off not being my friend.
5. "I'm in a Normal, Functional Relationship and I LOVE Telling Everyone."
I hate romance, I hate sentiment, and I hate people who throw their relationship in everyone's face. Nothing is wrong with posting photographs of the happy couple, but everything is wrong with gloating all over your status about how perfect your relationship is. "I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND SO MUCH." good for you, Daddy issues. Nobody gives a fuck how perfect your little relationship is, and I could not care less that you just celebrated your two week anniversary. The only thing I want to hear about are engagements (with a close-up of the ring, so I can judge), and divorce announcements, because nothing makes me happier than murder, gore, and failed relationships.
And stop posting those stupid memes and Jenna Marbles videos. Both insist upon themselves, and neither are all that great.
It wasn't until I took a long hard look in the social-networking mirror that I realized it wasn't Facebook that I hated; it was the people on my friends list.
That being said, I've resolved to start holding my Facebook friends at a higher standard than I hold the idiots I interact with on a regular basis to. No, I'm not accepting your friend request because I met you once. No, I'm not wishing you a happy birthday because we had a poli-sci discussion together. And, as any girl with high standards would do, I've compiled a grand list to help me clean house.
PEOPLE I CAN'T WAIT TO DELETE FROM MY FACEBOOK:
1. Religious Zealots
With the most recent religious holiday being Easter, I was afforded a wonderful chance to see which of my idiot friends decided to post the generic statuses, including but not limited to: "He is RISEN!" "PRAISE BE!" "HAVE A BLESSED EASTER EVERYONE!" I would normally walk away from these people if I encountered them in real life, and I have no intention of abandoning my beliefs in cyber space. Nothing is ruder than people imposing their bigoted thoughts on others. I'm not against religion, per se, but I am against people throwing it in everyone else's face. Sunday mornings are also a fantastic time to clean house. The next time I have someone filling my news feed with the details of the "wonderful sermon today" I will be responding with a "delete."
2. People Who Post About Their Workouts
If there's one thing worse than people who impose their religion on others, it's people who brag about their workouts. I get it, you were chubby in high school and had a hard time finding actual penetration, and now that you've got a $10.00 a month gym membership, you're basically a personal trainer. Nobody fucking cares that you woke up at 6:00 this morning to have a protein shake and run 12 miles and now you're feeling great. First of all, the only times I've ever seen 6:00 in the morning have been the result of a serious bender. Second of all, I would be feeling suicidal after a 12 mile run, not great, it's fucking freezing out and it's still only 7:00 am. Also, I'm sure it must be lonely at the top, because now that you've discovered this whole new world of super fitness, the only pictures you can post are of you, alone, in front of a mirror trying to flex, but actually just looking constipated. I don't want to see the picture of your new cross trainers. I could give a fuck less that you are "going to class, then CROSSFIT! It's a way of life, gotta do it." Shut the fuck up. I work out too. I mainly have been focusing on the upper body lately - swiping a credit card and bending my elbow to re-hydrate myself with wine (it's just grape juice that grew up to be awesome). Either way, I have zero problem keeping it to myself, and everyone else should take note (as usual. I'm infallible).
3. Anyone who says "YOLO"
It's no secret, I've hit my mid-twenties with grace. I am no longer a young buck, and am becoming the older, more mature, Jackie O of my generation with ease. I had a rude awakening when I was home in CT for Christmas about just how old I am; you know you're getting old when you no longer have contact with any hometown drug dealers. I digress. I felt completely out of the loop on this entire "YOLO" phase. It took me a few days, and a few painful conversations with an idiot I worked with, to learn that YOLO is an acronym for "You Only Live Once." In true degenerate fashion, people have taken advantage of this phrase to justify their idiotic actions. Example: "getting wasted tonight instead of studying. YOLO" "running from the police. YOLO." I'm going to ignore the fact that "You Only Live Once" is a four word, five syllable phrase that has never needed an acronym. Either way, each time someone decides to update their status including the phrase "YOLO" I will be updating my friends list, sans them.
4. "Self Portrait" People
Try as I might, I can't ignore the fact that we are the generation of celebrated mediocrity. Oh, you watch the show Cake Boss on TLC? You'll probably open your own bakery too, since you're so good with box-made cupcakes. You own a digital camera? You're a photographer, and I can totally tell by the album you posted on Facebook of off-center pictures of trees you put in sepia! I cringe every time I see anything like this, but I've gotten used to it. What I can't get used to are the Myspace-style mirror pictures. I swear to fucking God, the next time a mirror picture pops up on my news feed, DELETE. Anyone can make themselves look attractive while making a stupid face into a mirror and holding your i-Phone in a downward direction. Who do you think you are, Snooki? Get over yourself. If your self-esteem is so low that you need to take pictures of yourself in hopes that someone will comment how pretty you are, I can't handle you as my friend to begin with. Hellen Keller could see that if self-assurance is what you seek, you're probably better off not being my friend.
5. "I'm in a Normal, Functional Relationship and I LOVE Telling Everyone."
I hate romance, I hate sentiment, and I hate people who throw their relationship in everyone's face. Nothing is wrong with posting photographs of the happy couple, but everything is wrong with gloating all over your status about how perfect your relationship is. "I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND SO MUCH." good for you, Daddy issues. Nobody gives a fuck how perfect your little relationship is, and I could not care less that you just celebrated your two week anniversary. The only thing I want to hear about are engagements (with a close-up of the ring, so I can judge), and divorce announcements, because nothing makes me happier than murder, gore, and failed relationships.
And stop posting those stupid memes and Jenna Marbles videos. Both insist upon themselves, and neither are all that great.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Believe it or Not, I wasn't Always THIS Awesome.
I find it outrageous that 18 is considered legally adult. At the age of 18, I was good at cheerleading, pounding tequila, and getting pounded by frat boys. My real-world experience was nonexistent (have I ever told you I'm from Tolland, CT? It's not even real life there). I'm not sure if it's my chronological enhancement (I hate aging, as a term), or the fact that I'm facing mid-life crisis #482904865209, but I've come to realize that life is one absolutely fucking fantastic roulette wheel, no matter which way you spin it.
I think every high school graduate should be required to spend a few years working before he or she decides to enter college and declare a major. I think that if I had done what I'm doing now at the age of 18, my second degree choice would have become my first degree choice. Life makes so much more sense when it smacks you in the face. I think the same goes for relationships; you should be required to have a few really ridiculous experiences before you're allowed to settle down (more on that later).
I digress. A little while ago, I received a facebook invitation to my high school reunion. While there's absolutely no chance in fuck that I'll be attending, the invitation itself was quite thought provoking. In my opinion (which, by the way, is fact, so it's actually the only opinion that matters), reunions of any sort are a time measuring mechanism; a way to gauge who's changed, who hasn't, who's succeeded, who's failed. Don't get me wrong, I love a chance to tell people they've gotten fat just as much as the next asshole, but I don't think a high school reunion is any type of event I'll ever attend.
Here's why: I have minimal interest in actually interacting with the people I was forced to be educated alongside. I enjoy stalking them on facebook from time to time, and cringe every time I hear the mention of a familiar name through a third party source (and for the record, friends from CT, stop telling people how I'm doing. Tell them I've become a gypsy or something. They're just nosy, not caring). I also have found that the people I find to be the most worthwhile human beings are ones that weren't in my direct circle of friends in high school, so a reunion wouldn't be the best venue for a get-together (I'm talking to you, Ashley Adams).
All this being said, I'm armed with a bottle of Apothic Red and a highly reflective nature as of late. So, without further ado:
SHIT I WISH I COULD HAVE TOLD MY 16-YEAR-OLD SELF:
1. You've spent the past five years trying to impress the assholes you want to be your friends. Regardless of what you do or say, you're better than them. Not in the snooty, turn-up-the-nose kind of way, but in the sense that you actually are a genuinely good person. The fact that you've kept the secrets of who screwed who's boyfriend, and who's started which rumor, goes to prove how weak you are to your own morals. I know popularity might seem like the most important thing right now, but, believe it or not, ten years from now, none of this will matter. You're going to meet some of the best friends that the world could give you - just not during your time in high school. Be nice to everyone, but it's okay to be more judgmental of character. This is high school: popular doesn't mean "well liked." The girls you worry about impressing and being on good terms with? You're going to hit a point, about 3 or 4 years from now, where you'll forget some of their names, I promise.
2. You're actually amazing. It's okay to be smart, and the only dumb thing about you is your unwillingness to show it. Slacking off in class is a bad habit, and it will catch up to you in college (I promise). And those boys that you think won't like you because you're way smarter than them? One of them winds up getting super fat, the other one continues to hook up with high school girls throughout his entire time in college, and I'm pretty sure the rest wind up in jail at some point or another. Social status might seem like the most important thing right now, but trust me, it's not. Telling people you want to be a high school English teacher because it elicits the response "I bet you'll be the hot teacher all the boys want" is actually significantly less cool than admitting you are that weird, introverted chick who enjoys books and would be perfectly fine being a hermit and writing a best-selling novel by the age of 25.
3. Bleach blonde hair is not a good look for you. You're going to go through phases of toying around with your appearance, mainly because you have a hard time trying to get others to see you the way you see yourself. At all costs, don't bother with the nose piercing, or the tongue piercing (they wind up being a waste of money, you'll take them out later anyway). Don't dye your hair jet black (it's going to take three bleaching sessions to correct that one - you, and your wallet, are going to regret it). The tattoos are fine - they wind up being a part of the person that totally kicks mid 20's ass.
4. The secret to a good relationship? You won't know it until you know what it's like to love yourself. So, stop trying to find the perfect boy. By now, you've dealt with your share of assholes who have used you, and you've retaliated in due fashion. There's no need to travel across the country because you think someone might have the slightest interest in you, and please, please don't consider moving your entire life to Austin because someone tells you you're pretty. The person you're looking for will come into your life when you're ready for him to - and it's only going to be once you've dealt with your own issues and grown up enough to realize what you need, not what you think you need. The best part? He's been here all along. You'll see.
5. Give your mom some credit. You're a punk ass 16 year old, and she's doing the best she can. You'll understand more as time goes on, but please realize that love brings out the best and the worst in people - the vicious fights and screaming matches all really are a labor of love, and the frustration unconditional love causes. Oh, and FYI, the next time you decide to stay out all night, just call. Walking through the door at 9:00 AM with a smirk on your face is never the best way to disobey curfew.
6. Stop being such a people-pleaser. The minute you figure out you can't make everyone happy is the minute the rest of your life begins. You've spent your time telling everyone what you thought they wanted to hear from you. Ironically enough, once you start speaking your mind and just being yourself, you'll find the best friends of your life. Even better? Everyone knows the real you up front, so you don't have to second-guess anymore. It's a great feeling, trust me.
7. Wake up every day and thank the world for how lucky you are. Put good energy out there - once you learn how to do this, you'll reap the benefits. Trust me on this.
8. Stop telling people you don't have a gag reflex. You're attracting the wrong type of attention. However, your alcohol tolerance is, and always will be, a thing of beauty.
9. Save all your CD's. Trust me. You still listen to the same shit later in life. And you still get pissed at people who know THE ONE SINGLE your little emo/pop punk band had on the radio and have better tickets to the concert than you do. That part never changes.
Preach.
I think every high school graduate should be required to spend a few years working before he or she decides to enter college and declare a major. I think that if I had done what I'm doing now at the age of 18, my second degree choice would have become my first degree choice. Life makes so much more sense when it smacks you in the face. I think the same goes for relationships; you should be required to have a few really ridiculous experiences before you're allowed to settle down (more on that later).
I digress. A little while ago, I received a facebook invitation to my high school reunion. While there's absolutely no chance in fuck that I'll be attending, the invitation itself was quite thought provoking. In my opinion (which, by the way, is fact, so it's actually the only opinion that matters), reunions of any sort are a time measuring mechanism; a way to gauge who's changed, who hasn't, who's succeeded, who's failed. Don't get me wrong, I love a chance to tell people they've gotten fat just as much as the next asshole, but I don't think a high school reunion is any type of event I'll ever attend.
Here's why: I have minimal interest in actually interacting with the people I was forced to be educated alongside. I enjoy stalking them on facebook from time to time, and cringe every time I hear the mention of a familiar name through a third party source (and for the record, friends from CT, stop telling people how I'm doing. Tell them I've become a gypsy or something. They're just nosy, not caring). I also have found that the people I find to be the most worthwhile human beings are ones that weren't in my direct circle of friends in high school, so a reunion wouldn't be the best venue for a get-together (I'm talking to you, Ashley Adams).
All this being said, I'm armed with a bottle of Apothic Red and a highly reflective nature as of late. So, without further ado:
SHIT I WISH I COULD HAVE TOLD MY 16-YEAR-OLD SELF:
1. You've spent the past five years trying to impress the assholes you want to be your friends. Regardless of what you do or say, you're better than them. Not in the snooty, turn-up-the-nose kind of way, but in the sense that you actually are a genuinely good person. The fact that you've kept the secrets of who screwed who's boyfriend, and who's started which rumor, goes to prove how weak you are to your own morals. I know popularity might seem like the most important thing right now, but, believe it or not, ten years from now, none of this will matter. You're going to meet some of the best friends that the world could give you - just not during your time in high school. Be nice to everyone, but it's okay to be more judgmental of character. This is high school: popular doesn't mean "well liked." The girls you worry about impressing and being on good terms with? You're going to hit a point, about 3 or 4 years from now, where you'll forget some of their names, I promise.
2. You're actually amazing. It's okay to be smart, and the only dumb thing about you is your unwillingness to show it. Slacking off in class is a bad habit, and it will catch up to you in college (I promise). And those boys that you think won't like you because you're way smarter than them? One of them winds up getting super fat, the other one continues to hook up with high school girls throughout his entire time in college, and I'm pretty sure the rest wind up in jail at some point or another. Social status might seem like the most important thing right now, but trust me, it's not. Telling people you want to be a high school English teacher because it elicits the response "I bet you'll be the hot teacher all the boys want" is actually significantly less cool than admitting you are that weird, introverted chick who enjoys books and would be perfectly fine being a hermit and writing a best-selling novel by the age of 25.
3. Bleach blonde hair is not a good look for you. You're going to go through phases of toying around with your appearance, mainly because you have a hard time trying to get others to see you the way you see yourself. At all costs, don't bother with the nose piercing, or the tongue piercing (they wind up being a waste of money, you'll take them out later anyway). Don't dye your hair jet black (it's going to take three bleaching sessions to correct that one - you, and your wallet, are going to regret it). The tattoos are fine - they wind up being a part of the person that totally kicks mid 20's ass.
4. The secret to a good relationship? You won't know it until you know what it's like to love yourself. So, stop trying to find the perfect boy. By now, you've dealt with your share of assholes who have used you, and you've retaliated in due fashion. There's no need to travel across the country because you think someone might have the slightest interest in you, and please, please don't consider moving your entire life to Austin because someone tells you you're pretty. The person you're looking for will come into your life when you're ready for him to - and it's only going to be once you've dealt with your own issues and grown up enough to realize what you need, not what you think you need. The best part? He's been here all along. You'll see.
5. Give your mom some credit. You're a punk ass 16 year old, and she's doing the best she can. You'll understand more as time goes on, but please realize that love brings out the best and the worst in people - the vicious fights and screaming matches all really are a labor of love, and the frustration unconditional love causes. Oh, and FYI, the next time you decide to stay out all night, just call. Walking through the door at 9:00 AM with a smirk on your face is never the best way to disobey curfew.
6. Stop being such a people-pleaser. The minute you figure out you can't make everyone happy is the minute the rest of your life begins. You've spent your time telling everyone what you thought they wanted to hear from you. Ironically enough, once you start speaking your mind and just being yourself, you'll find the best friends of your life. Even better? Everyone knows the real you up front, so you don't have to second-guess anymore. It's a great feeling, trust me.
7. Wake up every day and thank the world for how lucky you are. Put good energy out there - once you learn how to do this, you'll reap the benefits. Trust me on this.
8. Stop telling people you don't have a gag reflex. You're attracting the wrong type of attention. However, your alcohol tolerance is, and always will be, a thing of beauty.
9. Save all your CD's. Trust me. You still listen to the same shit later in life. And you still get pissed at people who know THE ONE SINGLE your little emo/pop punk band had on the radio and have better tickets to the concert than you do. That part never changes.
Preach.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
I Would Resolve to Hate you Less, But You're Still an Idiot. Sorry.
Assuming that everyone had a tolerable holiday season, I've decided that the annoying "holiday cheer" should have long since departed everyone's daily routines, and it's more than appropriate for me to impose my (always correct) opinions and observations on everyone. Seeing as how I have already stated my disdain for Jesus' Birthday Semantics, and I really don't observe MLK Jr. Day save sending the four black people I know a text message, I've decided to set the record straight on what I truly plan on doing with 2012 (aka, my 23 year on Earth).
My New Year's Resolutions:
1. Lose Weight/Live a Healthier Lifestyle
This seems to be a common trend for everyone in the world, as anyone who frequents a fitness club could observe. Ah yes, what better a time than the dead of winter to resolve to shed the pounds you've been packing on over the years and neglected to lose in years past? My thoughts on weight loss/healthy eating habits are this: give up. I don't believe in diets. I do, however, believe in eating when you're hungry (or drunk). I have always lived an active lifestyle. Aside from dancing on bar tops and sprinting from the vehicle to the bar, I also run frequently (oh, and I was a cheerleader for the better (or worse, can't decide) half of my life). I think there's a formula that says the more you workout, the more weight you lose. I figure if you can couple some physical activity with less caloric intake, you're on your way to Kate Moss.
Just kidding. Who am I fooling here? Living a healthier life style would mean banning the excessive alcohol consumption and recreational activities, and don't you dare threaten me with a good time. My basic philosophy on weight control is this: if you wake up late enough in the day, you can skip breakfast. After going for a run or doing some intense cardio, consuming an iced coffee is a great way to get your energy up. Snack as needed. Generally, the best thing to do after working out it is to pass out for a few hours to fend off your hangover, and, once you wake up, start pre-gaming so hard that you forget to eat. Worst case scenario, you hit the drive through late night. Most of the time, greasy fast food has a way of coming back up in record time, so it's pretty much as if you never ate it in the first place. When all else fails, nicotine is fabulous for curing cravings. Try it. Or, if you're like me, you can incorporate food into your drinking habits. Here's an ideal day:
Breakfast: Bloody Mary (there's tomato juice in it, and if you have like 3, you've got your daily serving of veggies covered. Throw a celery stalk and some olives in there and you're golden. Also, I like them with black pepper and tobasco sauce. I read somewhere that spicy food kicks up your metabolism. Even if it doesn't, tell yourself that. Think thin).
Lunch: something small, consisting of a half a sandwich or a huge salad (no dressing. Dressing is gross. Why would you want to change the flavor of your greens? Add a tomato or something), and accompanied with something non-alcoholic, like white wine or champagne (made from grapes. This is basically a fruits & veggies only diet).
Dinner: vodka. It's made from potatoes. Make a dirty martini with blue cheese stuffed olives and you're good to go. I like to have 3 Olives Cake for dessert.
Don't believe in cancer, it's always the good who die young. Look it up, Billy Joel even said so, and who am I to question someone who's work was part of a Broadway show?
So basically, I realized that this NYR was null and void, because there's nothing about my daily routine I see a need to fix.
2. Be Nice to People.
I really thought long and hard about this one. I realized that I can't fight human nature, and it's in my nature to be informative. I was almost a teacher, until I realized that I hate children, I'm way too money-hungry for that salary, and I dropped out of college. It's in my nature to share knowledge. I think it's only fair to let people know when they're being idiots. It's not me being mean, it's me trying to help. I don't understand why people are so sensitive about constructive criticism. If people hired me as their life coach, I guarantee you there would be a lot less stupid girls in loveless relationships and far fewer children with stupid, trendy names in this world. Apparently, this would make me 0/2. This is another New Year's Resolution that does not apply to me.
3. Reconnect with Old Friends.
Just kidding. Care to know what I'll be doing in May of 2012? Like I have a clue, but I damn sure will NOT be attending my high school reunion. If I could use two words to describe my general attitude towards the people I was forced to be educated alongside in my youth, they would be "uninterested" and "apathetic." No. I didn't care what you did with yourself five years ago, and I sure as hell don't care now. The only way I would go near anything related to my high school class is if I were offered some sort of time-travel opportunity where I could impart my current wisdom and knowledge unto my 15 year old self. I would have wasted even less time with those people, and would have actually spent time getting to know people that were truly interesting (ironically enough, the people I am most intrigued by and have the most respect for of my graduating class weren't close friends at all).
So thanks, but no thanks. I'm a firm believer that wherever life takes you, the people you're meant to have in yours will be with you regardless. I also don't think there's a chance I could get through any type of get together of this sort sober, which inevitably means I'll wind up telling someone he or she looks terrible & has gained an unforgivable amount of weight. 0/3
Which would lead me to my real resolution:
Survive the apocalypse. It's the only logical goal to give myself, really.
My New Year's Resolutions:
1. Lose Weight/Live a Healthier Lifestyle
This seems to be a common trend for everyone in the world, as anyone who frequents a fitness club could observe. Ah yes, what better a time than the dead of winter to resolve to shed the pounds you've been packing on over the years and neglected to lose in years past? My thoughts on weight loss/healthy eating habits are this: give up. I don't believe in diets. I do, however, believe in eating when you're hungry (or drunk). I have always lived an active lifestyle. Aside from dancing on bar tops and sprinting from the vehicle to the bar, I also run frequently (oh, and I was a cheerleader for the better (or worse, can't decide) half of my life). I think there's a formula that says the more you workout, the more weight you lose. I figure if you can couple some physical activity with less caloric intake, you're on your way to Kate Moss.
Just kidding. Who am I fooling here? Living a healthier life style would mean banning the excessive alcohol consumption and recreational activities, and don't you dare threaten me with a good time. My basic philosophy on weight control is this: if you wake up late enough in the day, you can skip breakfast. After going for a run or doing some intense cardio, consuming an iced coffee is a great way to get your energy up. Snack as needed. Generally, the best thing to do after working out it is to pass out for a few hours to fend off your hangover, and, once you wake up, start pre-gaming so hard that you forget to eat. Worst case scenario, you hit the drive through late night. Most of the time, greasy fast food has a way of coming back up in record time, so it's pretty much as if you never ate it in the first place. When all else fails, nicotine is fabulous for curing cravings. Try it. Or, if you're like me, you can incorporate food into your drinking habits. Here's an ideal day:
Breakfast: Bloody Mary (there's tomato juice in it, and if you have like 3, you've got your daily serving of veggies covered. Throw a celery stalk and some olives in there and you're golden. Also, I like them with black pepper and tobasco sauce. I read somewhere that spicy food kicks up your metabolism. Even if it doesn't, tell yourself that. Think thin).
Lunch: something small, consisting of a half a sandwich or a huge salad (no dressing. Dressing is gross. Why would you want to change the flavor of your greens? Add a tomato or something), and accompanied with something non-alcoholic, like white wine or champagne (made from grapes. This is basically a fruits & veggies only diet).
Dinner: vodka. It's made from potatoes. Make a dirty martini with blue cheese stuffed olives and you're good to go. I like to have 3 Olives Cake for dessert.
Don't believe in cancer, it's always the good who die young. Look it up, Billy Joel even said so, and who am I to question someone who's work was part of a Broadway show?
So basically, I realized that this NYR was null and void, because there's nothing about my daily routine I see a need to fix.
2. Be Nice to People.
I really thought long and hard about this one. I realized that I can't fight human nature, and it's in my nature to be informative. I was almost a teacher, until I realized that I hate children, I'm way too money-hungry for that salary, and I dropped out of college. It's in my nature to share knowledge. I think it's only fair to let people know when they're being idiots. It's not me being mean, it's me trying to help. I don't understand why people are so sensitive about constructive criticism. If people hired me as their life coach, I guarantee you there would be a lot less stupid girls in loveless relationships and far fewer children with stupid, trendy names in this world. Apparently, this would make me 0/2. This is another New Year's Resolution that does not apply to me.
3. Reconnect with Old Friends.
Just kidding. Care to know what I'll be doing in May of 2012? Like I have a clue, but I damn sure will NOT be attending my high school reunion. If I could use two words to describe my general attitude towards the people I was forced to be educated alongside in my youth, they would be "uninterested" and "apathetic." No. I didn't care what you did with yourself five years ago, and I sure as hell don't care now. The only way I would go near anything related to my high school class is if I were offered some sort of time-travel opportunity where I could impart my current wisdom and knowledge unto my 15 year old self. I would have wasted even less time with those people, and would have actually spent time getting to know people that were truly interesting (ironically enough, the people I am most intrigued by and have the most respect for of my graduating class weren't close friends at all).
So thanks, but no thanks. I'm a firm believer that wherever life takes you, the people you're meant to have in yours will be with you regardless. I also don't think there's a chance I could get through any type of get together of this sort sober, which inevitably means I'll wind up telling someone he or she looks terrible & has gained an unforgivable amount of weight. 0/3
Which would lead me to my real resolution:
Survive the apocalypse. It's the only logical goal to give myself, really.
Monday, December 19, 2011
It's Time to Air Some Grievances.
I fucking hate the holidays.
I know, shocker, right? Who would have ever guessed I hate a time of year dedicated to being merry & bright? I do, however, strongly support the holiday Festivus (For the rest of us). It all began on Seinfeld, and basically, there is no Christmas tree or gift giving, but there is a non-decorated Festivus pole and an airing of grievances. Sign. Me. Up.
However, before I black myself out of 2011 and into 2k12, I'd like to air a few grievances I have with the world.
1. Elf on a Shelf.
Okay, "what the fuck is this noise?" you may ask. Question answered: it's a doll of the elf variety that over-achieving mothers put in their homes around Christmas time. The elf supposedly watches the children of the house and reports back to Santa. The idea is basically the elf can parent your children for a month. First of all, Santa's getting lazy if you ask me. What the hell happened to him being the all-knowing power? Now he has elves do his bidding? Weak sauce, Fat Man. Second of all, why the hell would any parent go to that much work to not discipline their children? Apparently, the elf is supposed to move locations and wreak havoc on the home. Um, no thanks. If I ever reproduce (which I'm not planning on, because I'm a responsible person who cares about the future of our society), there is no chance in hell I will support any of this elf nonsense. There will be no further shenanigans when it comes to this holiday. There's already enough accessories; there's a tree, and stockings, and people expect you to put up lights too. Why do people insist on making terrible seasons worse than they already are? If I ever have children, they will get their presents and shut up. I refuse to move an elf around my home. My mother never did any of these things with me, and I'm perfectly well-adjusted.
2. Smirnoff.
Okay, it's no secret, Smirnoff Vodka is the World's Best Tasting Vodka (for people who typically drink gasoline or have no taste buds). It's also very evident they're way behind on the desert-flavored vodka trend. Oh, just now you're deciding to make whipped cream flavored vodka? Call up Pinnacle and Three Olives and ask if you can borrow your notes from the past two years. I would be very content to ignore their blatant disregard for punctuality if it hadn't been for their new advertising campaign and choice of spokesperson. Amber Rose? Seriously? Who knows what Amber Rose is famous for? If you guessed "banging Kanye West" you are correct! Oh, good to know that all you have to do to become the face of a vodka brand is get penetrated by an egotistical black man with a drinking problem. Get in line, sister. Who the hell assigned her any credibility? Also, have you seen the commercials? Not only are they terrible, but she speaks like she has down syndrome and is in the middle of having a stroke. I really find it offensive when people over-enunciate their consonants; it generally makes me feel like I'm watching Teen Mom (which I do, but only Tuesday nights at 10). Has everyone forgotten the art of reading out loud? Did everyone else in this country miss the first fucking grade? Also, the tag line is "Because Vodka Never Felt This Good." I disagree. NOTHING ABOUT SMIRNOFF FEELS GOOD. I have a very specific criteria I enforce while deciding on my libations, the general guideline being that if you have to bend over to pick it up off the shelf, you'll be bending over to throw it up at some point over the night. I'm going to ignore any sexual innuendo attempts by Smirnoff in replacing "tasted" with "felt" and continue to elaborate on how there is no activity you can do with a bottle of Smirnoff that will feel good. The last time I drank Smirnoff, I was in Vegas, and if I recall correctly, I couldn't feel a thing after that, so who knows if what went down was good or blatantly mediocre. Who. The hell knows. Furthermore, I've been campaigning for the past three years of my life to be sponsored by Three Olives. As in, I would like for them to send me free vodka and support my already expensive drinking habits. Why do people that suck at life keep getting the things I want?
3. The Holiday Season.
What the fuck is it about Jesus's birthday that causes everyone to turn into maniacs? Everyone within a four mile radius of any shopping plaza is rude. Nobody's happy about spending a ton of money on people you're forced to see. I hate forced interaction, and the holidays are a breeding ground for it. Oh, yay, let's all get together and stand around with people we don't like in the spirit of Christmas. The only type of holiday spirit I can ever get down with comes in a frosted bottle, and its name is Three Olives. If there was any way to skip this entire Christmas ordeal and go right to New Years, I'm all for it. Also, I really wish Starbucks would stop pushing it's peppermint agenda down everyone's throats.
Oh, and if anyone else gets engaged over the next two weeks, I'm going to throw up.
Happy holidays you ass clowns!
I know, shocker, right? Who would have ever guessed I hate a time of year dedicated to being merry & bright? I do, however, strongly support the holiday Festivus (For the rest of us). It all began on Seinfeld, and basically, there is no Christmas tree or gift giving, but there is a non-decorated Festivus pole and an airing of grievances. Sign. Me. Up.
However, before I black myself out of 2011 and into 2k12, I'd like to air a few grievances I have with the world.
1. Elf on a Shelf.
Okay, "what the fuck is this noise?" you may ask. Question answered: it's a doll of the elf variety that over-achieving mothers put in their homes around Christmas time. The elf supposedly watches the children of the house and reports back to Santa. The idea is basically the elf can parent your children for a month. First of all, Santa's getting lazy if you ask me. What the hell happened to him being the all-knowing power? Now he has elves do his bidding? Weak sauce, Fat Man. Second of all, why the hell would any parent go to that much work to not discipline their children? Apparently, the elf is supposed to move locations and wreak havoc on the home. Um, no thanks. If I ever reproduce (which I'm not planning on, because I'm a responsible person who cares about the future of our society), there is no chance in hell I will support any of this elf nonsense. There will be no further shenanigans when it comes to this holiday. There's already enough accessories; there's a tree, and stockings, and people expect you to put up lights too. Why do people insist on making terrible seasons worse than they already are? If I ever have children, they will get their presents and shut up. I refuse to move an elf around my home. My mother never did any of these things with me, and I'm perfectly well-adjusted.
2. Smirnoff.
Okay, it's no secret, Smirnoff Vodka is the World's Best Tasting Vodka (for people who typically drink gasoline or have no taste buds). It's also very evident they're way behind on the desert-flavored vodka trend. Oh, just now you're deciding to make whipped cream flavored vodka? Call up Pinnacle and Three Olives and ask if you can borrow your notes from the past two years. I would be very content to ignore their blatant disregard for punctuality if it hadn't been for their new advertising campaign and choice of spokesperson. Amber Rose? Seriously? Who knows what Amber Rose is famous for? If you guessed "banging Kanye West" you are correct! Oh, good to know that all you have to do to become the face of a vodka brand is get penetrated by an egotistical black man with a drinking problem. Get in line, sister. Who the hell assigned her any credibility? Also, have you seen the commercials? Not only are they terrible, but she speaks like she has down syndrome and is in the middle of having a stroke. I really find it offensive when people over-enunciate their consonants; it generally makes me feel like I'm watching Teen Mom (which I do, but only Tuesday nights at 10). Has everyone forgotten the art of reading out loud? Did everyone else in this country miss the first fucking grade? Also, the tag line is "Because Vodka Never Felt This Good." I disagree. NOTHING ABOUT SMIRNOFF FEELS GOOD. I have a very specific criteria I enforce while deciding on my libations, the general guideline being that if you have to bend over to pick it up off the shelf, you'll be bending over to throw it up at some point over the night. I'm going to ignore any sexual innuendo attempts by Smirnoff in replacing "tasted" with "felt" and continue to elaborate on how there is no activity you can do with a bottle of Smirnoff that will feel good. The last time I drank Smirnoff, I was in Vegas, and if I recall correctly, I couldn't feel a thing after that, so who knows if what went down was good or blatantly mediocre. Who. The hell knows. Furthermore, I've been campaigning for the past three years of my life to be sponsored by Three Olives. As in, I would like for them to send me free vodka and support my already expensive drinking habits. Why do people that suck at life keep getting the things I want?
3. The Holiday Season.
What the fuck is it about Jesus's birthday that causes everyone to turn into maniacs? Everyone within a four mile radius of any shopping plaza is rude. Nobody's happy about spending a ton of money on people you're forced to see. I hate forced interaction, and the holidays are a breeding ground for it. Oh, yay, let's all get together and stand around with people we don't like in the spirit of Christmas. The only type of holiday spirit I can ever get down with comes in a frosted bottle, and its name is Three Olives. If there was any way to skip this entire Christmas ordeal and go right to New Years, I'm all for it. Also, I really wish Starbucks would stop pushing it's peppermint agenda down everyone's throats.
Oh, and if anyone else gets engaged over the next two weeks, I'm going to throw up.
Happy holidays you ass clowns!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Word to Your Mom, I Came to Drop Bombs.
I've spent much of my youth searching for the meaning of life. Even though I've learned it's "fuck bitches, get money (repeat, one would presume)," I refused to accept the idea that all we ever will become is the sum of our choices and the legacy we leave.
What about the choices we don't make, and the legacy we could have left?
Don't feed me some "carpe diem" bullshit, and I swear, if you try to respond with "what's meant to be will find a way," I will respond with a roundhouse kick to your jaw.
I think that the majority of society encourages that the school-college-marriage-family (with a career thrown in) prototype be followed. I think this is because most people crave security. I think most people find comfort in challenges that have a definite reward. It's no surprise; there's a reason there are more people who decide to enter the business field than to pursue careers as freelance photographers. People like the idea of a salary, of a stable living situation.
But what about people who don't? How long does it take to realize that maybe, just maybe, you're not cut out to fit into the mold you've been trying so hard to fit into?
I know, this is some pretty cutting edge stuff, right? A 22 year old college dropout bartender who is contemplating her future. Hold on tight, I don't want to throw a curve ball at you with this new and revolutionary material.
In the midst of my most recent midlife crisis (I use this term lightly. I think it's a little arrogant and presumptuous to assume that 45 or so is the appropriate age for mid-life to occur at. How do I know when my life will end, and who am I to arbitrarily assign an age to it's halfway point? Thus, I've been having midlife crisis' since I was 13. I figure if I make it to 26, I can keep having them and increase my chances of making it to 52. If not, can't say I didn't try), I suddenly realized I've been living a huge fucking lie.
I generally was a high-achiever in life, in most categories: school, sports, etc. I've always been able to set goals and attain them, because I have an awesome work ethic. If something sparks my interest, I can guarantee I will work for it. I used to have such a spark and such drive to accomplish my goals. Once I went to college, that quickly fizzled. Most people figured it was the massive quantities of booze I consumed on a daily basis. Some blamed it on the cocaine. While I refused to let a substance take the blame for my motivational demise, I opted for the ultimate cop out - my general response when people inquired about my lack of scholastic success was that I "had no idea what I wanted to do with my life" and that I was "taking time to figure it out."
Okay, confession. I do know. But before we get there -
The term "suffering artist" irritates me. I feel there's a negative connotation that comes along with it, one that conjures the image of an under-fed, over-pretentious person dressed in tattered clothes who spends hours upon hours without human contact for the preservation of their craft. Truth be told, I think the real suffering artists are the people who hide what drives them, what moves them, what they're passionate about. I think the people who truly suffer are the ones who opt for the safer, more widely accepted versions of themselves and their created lives while they perfect the art of acting as if everything is fine. I think there's nothing worse than having to look back on your life and wish you had done it all differently.
That being said, at the young and completely oblivious age of 18, I pledged to get a degree and get a real job at some point in my life. Maybe in teaching (wait, I fucking hate children). Maybe in business? Sales, perhaps? I have been trudging along, trying to find my niche, hoping I can find a field I love and one that will appear to be grown up and mature. I was only kidding myself. The only reason I haven't finished school is because I don't want to, deep down. There has been something holding me back, and that's the knowledge that regardless of how much money I make be able to make at some PR job, I'll never be happy.
I really have two goals in life: to become a recluse and to be happy. I'm not talking about the circumstantial, fleeting moment of contentment. I want to be genuinely and wholly satisfied. I don't to have to keep moving around, searching for my missing piece.
That being said- Fuck you guys, I'm writing a book.
What about the choices we don't make, and the legacy we could have left?
Don't feed me some "carpe diem" bullshit, and I swear, if you try to respond with "what's meant to be will find a way," I will respond with a roundhouse kick to your jaw.
I think that the majority of society encourages that the school-college-marriage-family (with a career thrown in) prototype be followed. I think this is because most people crave security. I think most people find comfort in challenges that have a definite reward. It's no surprise; there's a reason there are more people who decide to enter the business field than to pursue careers as freelance photographers. People like the idea of a salary, of a stable living situation.
But what about people who don't? How long does it take to realize that maybe, just maybe, you're not cut out to fit into the mold you've been trying so hard to fit into?
I know, this is some pretty cutting edge stuff, right? A 22 year old college dropout bartender who is contemplating her future. Hold on tight, I don't want to throw a curve ball at you with this new and revolutionary material.
In the midst of my most recent midlife crisis (I use this term lightly. I think it's a little arrogant and presumptuous to assume that 45 or so is the appropriate age for mid-life to occur at. How do I know when my life will end, and who am I to arbitrarily assign an age to it's halfway point? Thus, I've been having midlife crisis' since I was 13. I figure if I make it to 26, I can keep having them and increase my chances of making it to 52. If not, can't say I didn't try), I suddenly realized I've been living a huge fucking lie.
I generally was a high-achiever in life, in most categories: school, sports, etc. I've always been able to set goals and attain them, because I have an awesome work ethic. If something sparks my interest, I can guarantee I will work for it. I used to have such a spark and such drive to accomplish my goals. Once I went to college, that quickly fizzled. Most people figured it was the massive quantities of booze I consumed on a daily basis. Some blamed it on the cocaine. While I refused to let a substance take the blame for my motivational demise, I opted for the ultimate cop out - my general response when people inquired about my lack of scholastic success was that I "had no idea what I wanted to do with my life" and that I was "taking time to figure it out."
Okay, confession. I do know. But before we get there -
The term "suffering artist" irritates me. I feel there's a negative connotation that comes along with it, one that conjures the image of an under-fed, over-pretentious person dressed in tattered clothes who spends hours upon hours without human contact for the preservation of their craft. Truth be told, I think the real suffering artists are the people who hide what drives them, what moves them, what they're passionate about. I think the people who truly suffer are the ones who opt for the safer, more widely accepted versions of themselves and their created lives while they perfect the art of acting as if everything is fine. I think there's nothing worse than having to look back on your life and wish you had done it all differently.
That being said, at the young and completely oblivious age of 18, I pledged to get a degree and get a real job at some point in my life. Maybe in teaching (wait, I fucking hate children). Maybe in business? Sales, perhaps? I have been trudging along, trying to find my niche, hoping I can find a field I love and one that will appear to be grown up and mature. I was only kidding myself. The only reason I haven't finished school is because I don't want to, deep down. There has been something holding me back, and that's the knowledge that regardless of how much money I make be able to make at some PR job, I'll never be happy.
I really have two goals in life: to become a recluse and to be happy. I'm not talking about the circumstantial, fleeting moment of contentment. I want to be genuinely and wholly satisfied. I don't to have to keep moving around, searching for my missing piece.
That being said- Fuck you guys, I'm writing a book.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Drink Like a Champion. No, Actually Do It.
In case anyone was wondering, I'm quite the judgmental bitch. I will form my opinion on any given situation within a matter of minutes. I can tell you exactly what I think of you within about ten minutes of speaking with you. Also, I enjoy concocting elaborate narratives about the lives and thoughts of individuals I observe while people watching. This being said, I think it's safe to say the main factor I judge people on is their choice in libations. I'll admit it, I have reached a new level of shallow. I no longer judge people based on their clothing or accessories, or even by their political beliefs (well, that's a lie. I still do that). I am a firm believer I can assume everything I need to know about an individual after I know what their booze of choice is.
Allow me to elaborate.
As someone who has been drinking heavily for at least the past 8 years of my life, I may not be able to pride myself in a lot of the decisions I've made while intoxicated, but I am definitely proud of my refinement in alcoholic taste. I no longer can stand the sight of cheap vodka and cringe at the idea of Nattie Light (if you grew up in Tolland, CT, you've probably blacked out on Dubra once or twice, and if you're me, you've drank an entire fifth of it and subsequently flashed Yank at the welcome back dance. That's neither here nor there).
So what are my first reactions to people who ask that their mixed drinks be made with bottom-shelf quality liquor, or get really excited that Bud Light and Coors Light are on draft? I either assume that they are either underage, or total white trash. Or total underage white trash. Either way, the level you drink at is an automatic indicator of your social status. Only the best people drink the best alcohol, duh.
As far as beers go, it's so basic to assume that the best beer you can get is Blue Moon. Allow me to introduce you to the 21st century, micro-brewery edition. Micro brews are a great way to explore various alcoholic tastes and various types of beer. Never heard of an IPA? Don't know the difference between an ale and a lager? Hone up on your beer knowledge! It will make you seem smarter, and will in turn, make you attractive to smarter people. You'll be trendier, and will appear much more refined than in your frat boy, Coors Light-drinking years. Also, micro-brews tend to have a higher a.b.v. than the standard light beer, and a much more tolerable flavor than the disgusting national brand heavy beer, so it will take less of them to achieve the party buzz you're seeking (recession tip). However, the stand-by's such as Coors Light and Bud Light are very useful when one needs to consume large quantities of beer in a limited amount of time (including, but not limited to, activities such as: chugging, shot gunning, beer pong, beer bat, flip cup, etc). This makes sense however, because nobody that is actually able to post all of their party pictures on Facebook plays those games on a regular basis anyway.
When it comes to wine, I am far from a connoisseur. However, I will maintain my knowledge that white zinfandel will always be stripper juice. That's a fact. And I judge people who claim to be "classy" while guzzling the rose wine (and most likely wearing a $19.99 pair of Charlotte Russe heels with matching earrings, belt, and chunky necklace to boot). Give up girl, and don't let your acrylics break when you hold onto the stemware.
As far as liquor goes, I really form my opinions on people when I view their hard liquor intake. Nothing makes me want to slap someone harder than those who drink fruity mixed drinks that are like, 1 part vodka to every 4 parts juice. If I wanted lemonade with a "splash" of booze, I'd go back to sixth grade, thanks. Go big or go home is what I say. Allow yourself a base liquor, and one mixer of choice. My personal favorite mixed drinks include: vodka & soda, vodka vodka & soda, tequila and OJ, tequila & soda with a splash of OJ, Jack on the rocks, vodka water with a splash of sour, and whiskey water with a splash of sour (to name a few). I refuse to drink vodka cranberries, and I advise others to do the same. Cranberry juice is only useful if you have a UTI, and if you're slamming vodka cranberries, I think you'd be better off spending the night finding the root of how you contracted the UTI in the first place. Detest Grey Goose, because it's over rated, and predictable. Instead, allow yourself to luxury of Belvedere or Hangar. There is nothing wrong with Ketel One. If you're balling on a budget, 3 Olives is a personal favorite of mine. The golden rule of liquor is that if you have to bend down to get it off the shelf, you could probably use it to clean your sink, and I don't like drinking Pine-Sol. My assessment of alcohol quality is derived from whether or not I could drink it on the rocks. If it's truly a decent spirit, I can enjoy it with just a little bit of ice. And a lot of good times.
As far as cocktails go, blue Long Islands and Electric Lemonades are for broke undergrads. I'm judging you, 42 year old woman, who asks for a Blue Long Island with extra lemons and a fucking cherry. I'm judging you.
Yes, fun shots are fun to do. For like, two rounds, on your 21st birthday. Grow a pair and shoot straight. Not only are birthday cake shots a pain in the ass for a bartender to make, but nothing flashes the "amateur" light like asking for a round of Dirty Girl Scouts, especially after your a few deep. Have you ever puked up creme de menthe? I don't recommend it.
Overall, I'd say that drinking is probably one of my favorite past times, aside from berating people (generally while drinking), and spending money (generally on alcohol). When you're this good at something, it's hard not to look down on those of lesser talent. But don't say I didn't try to help.
Allow me to elaborate.
As someone who has been drinking heavily for at least the past 8 years of my life, I may not be able to pride myself in a lot of the decisions I've made while intoxicated, but I am definitely proud of my refinement in alcoholic taste. I no longer can stand the sight of cheap vodka and cringe at the idea of Nattie Light (if you grew up in Tolland, CT, you've probably blacked out on Dubra once or twice, and if you're me, you've drank an entire fifth of it and subsequently flashed Yank at the welcome back dance. That's neither here nor there).
So what are my first reactions to people who ask that their mixed drinks be made with bottom-shelf quality liquor, or get really excited that Bud Light and Coors Light are on draft? I either assume that they are either underage, or total white trash. Or total underage white trash. Either way, the level you drink at is an automatic indicator of your social status. Only the best people drink the best alcohol, duh.
As far as beers go, it's so basic to assume that the best beer you can get is Blue Moon. Allow me to introduce you to the 21st century, micro-brewery edition. Micro brews are a great way to explore various alcoholic tastes and various types of beer. Never heard of an IPA? Don't know the difference between an ale and a lager? Hone up on your beer knowledge! It will make you seem smarter, and will in turn, make you attractive to smarter people. You'll be trendier, and will appear much more refined than in your frat boy, Coors Light-drinking years. Also, micro-brews tend to have a higher a.b.v. than the standard light beer, and a much more tolerable flavor than the disgusting national brand heavy beer, so it will take less of them to achieve the party buzz you're seeking (recession tip). However, the stand-by's such as Coors Light and Bud Light are very useful when one needs to consume large quantities of beer in a limited amount of time (including, but not limited to, activities such as: chugging, shot gunning, beer pong, beer bat, flip cup, etc). This makes sense however, because nobody that is actually able to post all of their party pictures on Facebook plays those games on a regular basis anyway.
When it comes to wine, I am far from a connoisseur. However, I will maintain my knowledge that white zinfandel will always be stripper juice. That's a fact. And I judge people who claim to be "classy" while guzzling the rose wine (and most likely wearing a $19.99 pair of Charlotte Russe heels with matching earrings, belt, and chunky necklace to boot). Give up girl, and don't let your acrylics break when you hold onto the stemware.
As far as liquor goes, I really form my opinions on people when I view their hard liquor intake. Nothing makes me want to slap someone harder than those who drink fruity mixed drinks that are like, 1 part vodka to every 4 parts juice. If I wanted lemonade with a "splash" of booze, I'd go back to sixth grade, thanks. Go big or go home is what I say. Allow yourself a base liquor, and one mixer of choice. My personal favorite mixed drinks include: vodka & soda, vodka vodka & soda, tequila and OJ, tequila & soda with a splash of OJ, Jack on the rocks, vodka water with a splash of sour, and whiskey water with a splash of sour (to name a few). I refuse to drink vodka cranberries, and I advise others to do the same. Cranberry juice is only useful if you have a UTI, and if you're slamming vodka cranberries, I think you'd be better off spending the night finding the root of how you contracted the UTI in the first place. Detest Grey Goose, because it's over rated, and predictable. Instead, allow yourself to luxury of Belvedere or Hangar. There is nothing wrong with Ketel One. If you're balling on a budget, 3 Olives is a personal favorite of mine. The golden rule of liquor is that if you have to bend down to get it off the shelf, you could probably use it to clean your sink, and I don't like drinking Pine-Sol. My assessment of alcohol quality is derived from whether or not I could drink it on the rocks. If it's truly a decent spirit, I can enjoy it with just a little bit of ice. And a lot of good times.
As far as cocktails go, blue Long Islands and Electric Lemonades are for broke undergrads. I'm judging you, 42 year old woman, who asks for a Blue Long Island with extra lemons and a fucking cherry. I'm judging you.
Yes, fun shots are fun to do. For like, two rounds, on your 21st birthday. Grow a pair and shoot straight. Not only are birthday cake shots a pain in the ass for a bartender to make, but nothing flashes the "amateur" light like asking for a round of Dirty Girl Scouts, especially after your a few deep. Have you ever puked up creme de menthe? I don't recommend it.
Overall, I'd say that drinking is probably one of my favorite past times, aside from berating people (generally while drinking), and spending money (generally on alcohol). When you're this good at something, it's hard not to look down on those of lesser talent. But don't say I didn't try to help.
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